


Playmate

by Jld71



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood, Bottom Sam Winchester, Character Death, Hunters & Hunting, Incest, M/M, Murder, Top Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 22:05:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16395950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jld71/pseuds/Jld71
Summary: Sam and Dean have admitted their feelings for each other and decide to embrace their dark desires for each other and killing.





	Playmate

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: gatorgurl94  
> Artist: emmatheslayer  
> Written for the Wincest Big Bang 2018

Playmate

 

The need in them hadn’t just showed up on day, it had been there, building up over time. The need to kill had been in each of them since day one, since they had come into this world. They had just been able to hold it at bay until they couldn’t any longer. The hunts had been a way for Dean to soothe that dark desire. He enjoyed the thrill of it, the hunt, to stalk and trap his prey. He was damn good at it. Even John had remarked on how good he was; how accurate and calculating he was in his moves. He always seemed to know what the indented prey was going to do before it made its move. 

 

Sam had seen that in Dean, his darkness and it drew him even closer to his brother. He recognized a kindred spirit. He’d witnessed Dean ruthlessness in his killing of vampires, demons and whatever else they were hunting. He’d even helped with a few kills. He knew what the family business was, even if Dean and John had tried to shield him from it in the beginning. As he got older, he was drawn into it; helping his brother and father hunt and kill what preyed on unsuspecting people. While he enjoyed being in on the hunt, helping Dean, it was the blood he was drawn to. He loved seeing it drip and pool around their kills. He loved the red richness of it, the smell - it was so heady. He could lose himself in it. 

 

Dean had caught him once as he obsessed over the blood. Dean had severed the head off a vampire and had moved on to secure the building they were in. Dean had walked back into the room to make sure Sam was still safe to find him running his fingers through the puddle of blood.

 

“Sam - what . . .” Dean’s voice called to him, barely above a whisper.

 

Sam pulled his hand away from the pooling blood to look at it. He watched as the blood ran down his fingers and across the palm of his hand. He looked up at Dean and smiled. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel it. The need to kill.” He looked at Dean and saw the same raw need in Dean that he harbored in himself.

 

Before Dean could respond, they heard John coming down the hall to join them. Dean put himself between Sam and John and whispered to Sam over his shoulder.

 

“Clean yourself up.”

 

John appeared at the door, chest heaving as he surveyed the room, making sure there was no other threat lurking around. “You boys alright?” He looked at Dean and then over to Sam, seeing the blood on his hand. He started toward Sam. “Sam, you hurt?” He growled out.

 

“No, slipped.” Sam responded.

 

John shook his head. “Get cleaned up. Dean, help him,” he said as he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

 

They never spoke of that night again or their deep-seated desires. Not until now.

 

Sam had held back long enough. Now he wanted to play and he had his perfect playmate - Dean.

 

Sam had always been what people might call strange as a child. He enjoyed books. He’d been called a bookworm more times than anyone could count. He’d been teased by kids in the different schools they’d attended throughout the years. He was quiet around everyone, except Dean. With Dean, he was just Sam. He could be himself, as odd as he wanted to be. He didn't have to worry about having to explain himself, Dean never questioned him. Dean just accepted him as he was. He was Dean’s Sam and no one else's. Even John, their father knew that. He’d never formed a father-son bond with John. A bond had been created with Dean, one that was unbreakable. Maybe it was because John had left the caring of Sam pretty much up to Dean, a child himself. At the tender age of four years-old, Dean had taken care of Sam. John had been too wrapped up in his hunt for the yellow eyed demon that had killed Mary, his wife and their mother, Azazel. 

 

Dean could still remember the first time their touches changed from brotherly hugs, arm punches and the occasional back of the head slap to something more. It became something that should never happen between brothers. But, it felt so right and once it happened, there was no going back. 

 

Their father had been gone on another hunt, leaving them alone for several days. Sam was eighteen; Dean was twenty-two. Both old enough to know it was wrong; neither one caring. He felt the dip of the bed, knew Sam had crawled into his bed. He had always needed that extra comfort, more often than not ending up in Dean’s bed when he’d woken up and was unable to go back to sleep on his own. Dean would let him lie next to him, his hands curled into fists around the blankets and sometimes fisting Dean’s shirt. He’d asked Sam once why he did that. The response from Sam was, he needed to feel Dean close to him. 

 

“Sam, not that I mind but why do you end up next to me in bed at night?”

 

“Don’t know really. Just need to be near you, be next to you,” Sam had said with a shrug, letting the subject go from his mind.

 

Dean had chalked it up to the fact that he’d been the only constant in Sam’s life and had let it go after that. 

 

That night had been different. They had shared a few sips of beer when they’d gotten back to their motel room. (The perks of being twenty-two for Dean and having an older brother who was legally able to drink for Sam.) They’d gone to sleep in their own beds. Feeling movement next to him, in the middle of the night, the dip of the bed and someone touching him, had brought Dean slightly awake. He cracked an eye open to see that it was Sam and had closed his eyes, trying to return to sleep. He was lulled by the warmth of Sam’s body, the arm flung over his chest. A contented sigh escaped his lips as he started to drift off again. 

 

He felt the arm move down his chest, slipping under the blanket that covered them both, but didn’t give it a second thought. That was, until the hand attached to the arm started to slip past the elastic waistband of his sweats. He felt his body tense, ready to pull the hand away when he heard Sam’s voice. 

 

“Let me,” Sam said. His voice was so soft against Dean’s ear. 

 

It was Sam and how could he refuse Sam anything? He let his body relax as Sam’s fingers worked their way under the material, sliding against his bare skin as his fingers came in contact with his hip. “Fuck.” He whispered at the touch. He felt Sam’s tongue on his skin, licking his earlobe and he shuddered. He closed his eyes, letting the sensations of Sam’s tongue and fingers on his body wash over him. He felt his dick starting to swell and his hips bucked up to be met by his brother’s fingers encircling him. A moan escaped his lips; he couldn’t stop it even if he’d wanted to. He felt Sam’s lips latching onto the area underneath his earlobe and he wanted more. “Sam . . .” Dean started to say something but his brother’s lips on his cut him off. 

 

He felt the warm lips pressing against his in a hungry kiss. Sam’s tongue darted out, licking over his lips, pressing in. Sam’s tongue mapped his mouth as their tongues moved against each other. Sam sucked on his tongue, pulling another moan from him. What was happening was so forbidden and so intoxicating. Sam’s hand began to stroke his throbbing dick and he wanted more. He wanted to come in Sam’s hand, from Sam stroking him. He felt Sam’s fingers run over the leaking head of his dick, spreading pre-come on his shaft, making the glide that much more pleasurable. 

 

“God, Sammy.” His hips bucked up into the heat that was holding him. Dean brought his hands to Sam’s shoulders, bracing them against his brother’s body. 

 

“Sam, we gotta stop. This is wrong.” The words were barely a whisper as his mind screamed at him. ‘No don’t stop, let Sam continue’.

 

“Dean, wanna suck you, taste you. Get you off.” Sam hissed at him, almost begging him. “Need you, please.”

 

Dean groaned hearing that because that was really what he wanted. He was willing to take anything Sam had to offer him.

 

“It’s not wrong to want this.” Sam said as he crashed his lips against Dean’s. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Please.”

 

They kissed until their lungs burned, screaming with the need to breath. With effort, Sam forced himself to pull away only to move his lips down Dean’s jaw, tracing it with licks of his tongue and nips from his teeth. Sam’s grip on Dean’s dick tightened and he slid his hand up and down, twisting his wrist on the downward slide. Sam worked his way down Dean’s muscled chest, capturing one of his nipples in his lips. He sucked on it, feeling Dean’s body shiver against him. His tongue darted around the nub, making is pebble hard before biting. He heard the hiss from Dean and did it again. Sam brought he free hand up, entwining his fingers with Dean’s as he moved over to the other nipple. He ran his tongue over the flesh, feeling it rise and harden as he sucked it into his mouth. He felt Dean’s grip tighten in his as he bit the hard nipple and he let out a happy moan. He heard a whimper as his mouth let go of the flesh, moving down Dean’s chest. He licked along his navel, moving down to his hip where his lips latched on, sucking and pulling the flesh into his mouth. He felt the overwhelming need to mark Dean’s flesh. They would be the only ones to know the mark was there but he had to do it. He had to claim Dean as his own.

 

Sensing what Sam was doing, Dean relaxed under his brother’s weight, letting him mark him, lay claim to his body. Let Dean know that he was Sam’s. He felt Sam pulling his hand free and move it down to his hip, tugging on his pants. He reached down, trying to free himself from the confines of his clothing. Together, they managed to push the pants just passed his ass, giving Sam greater access to his flesh. 

 

Sam’s warm fingers glided down Dean's flesh, feather soft. Each touch of a finger sent a jolt of electricity through his body. Sam's fingers circled his shaft causing a deep moan to escape Dean's lips. Sam ran a finger over the head of the shaft, spreading pre-come over their skin, making the glide sweeter. Dean felt hot breath on his skin, lips against his thigh as Sam kissed his flesh. Sam's butterfly kisses made Dean wriggle beneath him. 

 

Sam liked hearing the way Dean's breath caught in his throat and smiled, knowing he was the cause of it. Slowly he worked his way to Dean's rock hard cock. His tongue licked over the head of the shaft and he felt Dean's body go stiff. He looked up, watching Dean's chest rise and fall in rapidly. He worked his tongue down the underside of the shaft only to lick his way back up. He heard Dean's sharp intake of breath. 

 

“Sam-my.” Dean stuttered out as he gave in to his brother. 

 

Sammy smiled, hearing the broken cry from Dean. His tongue circled the head again before he parted his lips and drew the hard flesh into his mouth. Dean groaned, feeling the wet warmth on his dick. He hands fisted the sheets as he rocked his hips up into the heat of Sam’s mouth. Sam watched as Dean's back arched, head tilted back, eyes closed and lips parted as a moan escaped his sinful lips. He worked his lips down Dean's dick, head bobbing up and down as he sucked his brother off. His right hand curled around the base, moving in time with his head. His free hand reached up, nudging at Dean's fisted one, searching, needing to lace their fingers together. He felt Dean's fingers grasp his, locking them together. Sam sucked him in, hollowing his cheeks, adding more intensity to what he was doing. He felt Dean struggling, trying to break free of his mouth. 

 

“Sa-Sam, gonna come.” Dean gasped out, trying to warn his brother. 

 

Sam only latched on more, sucking until Dean’s come was filling his mouth. He swallowed around Dean's dick, trying not to let a drop seep past his lips. His tongue worked over the flesh in his mouth as he felt Dean going limp. He licked at him until he heard Dean begging him to stop. The sensation was to much on his already overstimulated skin. With a wet pop, he let the flaccid cock fall from his lips. He looked at his brother, seeing his chest heaving an arm trying to move. Sam licked his lips, tasting the bitter saltiness of Dean's come on his lips. He surged up, covering his brother’s weakened body with his and kissed Dean deeply. His tongue forcing its way into Dean's mouth, sharing the taste of Dean’s own come with him. Still holding Dean's hand in his, he worked them down to his own still hard cock straining against his sweatpants. Dean rolled them onto their sides, still facing each other and let go of Sam's hand so he could work his fingers into Sam’s sweatpants. As his fingers ran over the head of Sam's cock he smeared the drops of precome over Sam's dick. 

 

“Yes!” Sam hissed out, knowing it wouldn't take long for Dean to jack him off. 

 

Dean's hands worked him over, up and down, tugging and caressing his flesh. Sam tilted his head back and closed his eyes as his breathing sped up. 

 

“No, look at me. I wanna see you when you come.” Dean’s husky voiced called out to him.

 

His eyes snapped open, obeying Dean's command. Hazel eyes, blown out with lust looked into awed green eyes. Sam bit his lower lip, feeling that familiar sensation of his orgasm building. Dean's movements quickened, pulling Sam's release from him and he came with Dean's name spilling from his lips. He felt the warmth spreading against his skin and his body shook with the after-wave. He felt Dean slowly pulling his hand away from him, raising his come covered fingers to his lips. Sam's eyes widened as he watched Dean lick his come from his fingers and then brought those fingers to Sam's own lips. His tongue darted out, eager to taste himself on Dean's skin. 

 

A little moan escaped Dean's lips as he watched Sam. “So hot.” Dean said before crashing his lips against Sam's. Sam moaned around Dean's tongue. He reached out, pulling Dean against his chest, wanting to become one with him. 

 

“I love you.” Sam said against Dean's lips and he felt Dean smile. 

 

“I love you, too. We better get cleaned up.” 

 

Sam groaned at the thought of leaving the bed, leaving Dean but he knew his brother was right. Dean pushed back the covers, getting up and letting his pants pool around his ankles. 

 

Sam sucked in his breath at seeing Dean’s naked body in front of him. He’d seen Dean’s body in various stages of undress; his chiseled chest, toned arms, muscular legs. But seeing the entire package in the flesh was breathtaking, literally. He felt his dick twitch at seeing that naked flesh and he closed his eyes, wanting to lick over every inch of that pale freckled skin. He watched as Dean stepped out of his pants, kicking them out of his way. 

 

Dean looked at him and held out a hand. “Are you coming or what?” Dean asked, quirking his lips into a smile at him. 

 

Sam reached up, taking the offered hand and found himself being pulled up and out of the bed. 

 

Dean padded softly into the bathroom, felt the cold air against his naked skin and the cool tile underneath his feet. He pushed aside the shower curtain, reached in and turned on the water. He waited for it to warm up before stepping into the shower, followed by Sam. 

 

Sam quickly striped out of his soiled pants and climbed into the shower with Dean. He fought the urge to crowd into Dean, needing and wanting his warmth and the feel of Dean’s skin against his own. But he didn’t, he let Dean set the rules. 

 

Dean picked up the soap and motioned for him to turn around. He complied, feeling Dean reach up and begin to wash his hair. He felt hands trail down his body, washing away their earlier coupling. When he was washed, Dean motioned for him rinse off the soap as feather-light touches caressed his skin. As Dean picked up the soap to wash himself, he pushed Dean’s hands away and took the soap in his. He repeated what Dean he’d done to him, needing to touch that pale freckled skin. Once they were both washed and the water had run cold, Sam reached past Dean and turned the water off. 

 

Getting out, they toweled off and dressed in clean clothes. Dean scooped up their dirty clothing, bundled it up and shoved it into an extra duffle bag they used for dirty clothing that needed to be washed. Still feeling the need for more sleep, Sam crawled back into bed, pulling Dean with him. He lay on his side, waiting for sleep to pull him into blissful darkness. Sam felt Dean’s arm snake around his waist, pulling him close. He fell asleep, back pressed against Dean’s chest, Dean’s breath in his ear.

 

Sam woke to find Dean sitting up against the headboard looking at him. 

 

“What?” Sam asked cautiously.

 

“Just thinking about us,” Dean said as he turned away from him.

 

Sam’s heart sunk. Dean was thinking about them, what they had done. Dean had regrets. He regretted what happened between them the night before. In the clear morning light, Dean had realized how wrong this was, how taboo it was, what they’d shared. How was he going to move forward with Dean as just his brother after what they’d shared between them? They couldn’t go back and unring that bell. Not that he wanted to. He’d wanted what happened last night since he’d known what his dick was for. He’d wanted Dean for as long as he could remember.

 

“What are we gonna do about Dad? He won’t understand us, what we have between us,” Dean said as he finally turned and looked at Sam, meeting Sam’s pleading hazel eyes. “And, I’m not giving this up. Unless . . .” Dean’s words faltered off and he looked away, trying to hide his emotions.

 

Sitting up, Sam grabbed Dean’s hand, tugged at Dean until Dean looked at him. “No regrets, no going back. I don’t want to be without you. I’m not giving you up. As far as Dad, we’ll figure something out. Maybe we just take the car and leave, disappear. It’s not like we don’t know how to cover our tracks,” Sam said, eyes pleading with Dean. He reached for Dean, pulling him into a frantic kiss. His head swam, the thought of everything was overwhelming. He needed to anchor himself to Dean.

 

Dean pressed him into the mattress and hummed in satisfaction. He enjoyed the feeling of Sam’s body against his own, Dean interlaced his fingers with Sam’s, pushing his hands up above his head, holding Sam down. He kissed him harder, crashing their lips together in a needy kiss.

 

Sam felt Dean straddle him, working a leg in between his own to nudge them open, trying to gain greater access to him. “Dean,” he said in a whisper as he tried to grind himself up against Dean, feeling the warmth and weight of his brother’s body against his own. 

 

“What the Fuck!” A gravelly voice called out. Two hands grabbed Dean by the shoulders, pulled him off and away from Sam, slamming him up against the wall. “What the fuck are you doing to your brother?” John screamed at Dean, his face scarlet colored in anger. 

 

Both boys went white, eyes wide in shock and fear at having been caught by their father. Dean found himself forced up against the wall with John’s arm pressed against his throat, making it hard for him to breath. Dean thrashed, trying to get away from John’s hold on him. Seeing what was going on, Sam scrambled off the bed and over to the two of them, trying to pull John off of Dean.

 

“Dad, it wasn’t him. It was me. I made him,” Sam said loudly. “I wanted it, wanted him,” Sam whispered, shocked at himself for admitting it out loud to anyone other than Dean.

 

John stumbled back, shocked at what he was hearing, at what he’d just witnessed between his two sons. He shook his head in disbelief. “No, Sam. Don’t say that. Stop covering for him,” John spat out as he shot a disgusted look at Dean. He felt Sam’s hands on his arms, pulling him away from Dean and out of the room.

 

Dean slumped to the floor, panic taking hold of his breathing as he gasped, trying to fill his air starved lungs. He tried to stand only to pitch forward on shaking legs. He braced himself with his arms before he fell face forward to the floor. He forced himself to get his breathing under control as he stood. He cocked his head, listening to raised voices coming from the parking lot. His breathing returned to normal as he heard John’s car drive away, only to quicken when he realized Sam hadn’t returned. He was about to go to the door in search of Sam when the door opened.

 

Sam waited for a few minutes to calm down before walking back into the room. The only reason he wasn’t in his Dad’s car was because physically he was larger than both his father and brother. With his bulk, there wasn’t much that could move him when he was determined to stay in one spot. He turned, opened the door to their motel room and walked back in. “Dad’s going to be a problem,” he said matter-of-factly as he looked at Dean, his hazel eyes burning in anger. 

 

Dean raised his head, looked at Sam. He was surprised by the relief that flooded him upon Sam’s return. Sam hadn’t left him. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll take care of it,” Dean offered.

 

Sam smiled at him, dimples showing in his happiness. He pushed Dean back against the wall, boxing him in as he raised his arms and rested his hands on the wall on either side of Dean’s head. He pressed his lips to Dean’s neck, mumbled ‘mine’ over and over again as he kissed the tender column of flesh. 

 

Dean grunted in agreement. Letting Sam kiss him until he felt lightheaded from lack of oxygen. He felt Sam letting him go and he reached into his pocket to fish out his cell phone. He sent a short text to John, telling him to meet him at an old abandoned factory building in an hour. A minute later his phone beeped, indicating he’d received a response, a simple ‘ok’ from John. He pulled Sam to him and kissed Sam and then pushed himself away from the wall. He dropped his hands from Sam’s body, despite still wanting to touch him.

 

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Stay here until I get back,” Dean said, his voice void of emotion. He was out the door and getting into the Impala before Sam could even protest. Dean looked back at the motel door before putting the car into drive and pulling out of the parking lot. He looked into the rearview mirror to see Sam’s silhouette standing in the doorway. His gut clenched at the thought of leaving Sam. He forced himself to wrench his eyes away and focus on the road.

 

Dean drove to the meeting spot and circled around the factory on foot, looking for John. Seeing that his father wasn’t there yet, he went inside to wait for him. A half hour later Dean heard a car pulling up to the side of the building. He heard the engine idle before it was cut off. He cocked his head to the side and listened to the slamming of a car door.

 

“Dean!” John’s angry voice called out as he pushed open the door to enter the building. Seeing Dean, John quickened his pace, curling his hands into fists as he walked closer “You sick son of a bitch!” He yelled as he got one punch in, connecting with Dean’s jaw.

 

“That’s the only shot you get,” Dean ground out, rubbing his jaw. 

 

John’s eyes narrowed into slits as he looked at his son. “I knew you’d find a way to fuck Sam up! But, that . . . it’s sick, you perverted bastard!” 

 

Dean felt the anger within himself rising. “Your precious Sam? He’s mine, always has been. Maybe had you been an actual father, we wouldn’t be so fucked up, need each other so badly. But, we are your sons. We are what you made us,” Dean snarled at him.

 

“You’re not my son. You’re just some sick fuck. I’m taking Sam away from you so you don’t inflict anymore of what I walked into today on him,” John barked out.

 

“I can’t let you do that,” Dean said, his voice lacking any emotion as he spoke. “I won’t let you separate us!”

 

“How are you going to stop me, boy?” John asked, a smirk on his lips at the attempt of defiance coming from Dean. He’d always been the one to fall in line with whatever he was told to do, Daddy’s good little soldier. 

 

Dean rushed at him, knocked him down and watched as John’s eyes widened in shock and fear at seeing Dean’s hunting knife raised above him. He heard John scream in pain as Dean brought the knife down, piercing his chest. He lost track of how many times he stabbed his father. He only stopped when he noticed the screaming had stopped and the knife, slick with blood, slipped from his hands. He looked down at himself, covered in blood and then down at John’s lifeless body. He smiled, seeing his father’s body lying there and felt his rage draining from his body. He wiped his knife clean on John’s pant leg before sheathing it at his hip. 

 

He got up and jogged to John’s car, making sure no one was around as he popped the trunk. He grabbed the extra can of gasoline, box of salt, matches and spare clothes that John kept in the trunk. He noticed a rag and grabbed it, using it to wipe down everything he had touched before closing the trunk. He made sure to wipe down the car for fear of leaving behind any traces of himself. As he returned to John’s body he wiped down any surfaces he thought he had touched before he stripped off his blood soaked clothing, and tossed them on top of John’s body. He used the rag to wipe off what blood he could from his body before getting redressed. 

 

Dean made sure to salt the body. The last thing he wanted was John’s vengeful spirit coming after him. He picked up the can and poured the contents over John’s body before wiping his prints off the can and adding it to the pile along with the rag and the box that had contained the salt. He picked up the matches and lit one. He took the light match and held it to the book of matches and watched as they light up before he tossed them onto the pile. He stepped back as the matches caught the gas, engulfing John’s body in flames. He watched as the flames began to burn away the evidence of what he’d done. He thought he would feel regret, sorrow for his actions, taking the life of his father. He only felt satisfaction, knew there was no way that John could separate him from Sam. 

 

Once he was sure that John’s body was burning he backed away, careful not to touch anything as he left. He used the sleeve of his shirt to grasp the door knob with as he pulled it open and then closed it, concealing what was burning inside. He stood outside of the building, letting the cold air cool his overheated body. His breathing had finally returned to normal. He looked around one last time to make sure he was alone, that there were no witnesses to his presence at the abandoned build. Satisfied that he was truly alone for the moment he got back into the Impala and started the car. He listened to the engine idle, the sound soothing him before he shifted the car into drive and started to drive the distance back to the motel and Sam. He turned on the radio, settling on whatever was playing on it and hummed along. 

 

Dean smiled; John was gone. There was no way that John would now be able to take Sam away from him. They would be together for as long as Sam wanted him. The thought of Sam no longer wanting him hit him like a punch to the gut. What if Sam didn’t want him after Sam found out what he’d done? “Stupid,” he hissed at himself as he slapped the steering wheel. He’d been so caught up in the moment of removing the obstacle that was their father that he never gave any thought to Sam’s reaction. It was one thing to want to fuck your brother. It was another thing to find out that you brother had just killed their father. He worried his bottom lip as he thought his options over. There really wasn’t any option except telling Sam the truth. He was going to find out one way or the other. Sam knew he’d gone to meet with John. Sam would ask and there was no way he would be able to lie to Sam. Sam could be persistent when he wanted to know something, and if he thought someone was lying to him.

 

Before getting out of the Impala, Dean looked around, making sure no one was watching. With a heavy sigh, he got out of the car and made his way to their motel room. He stood in front of the door, willing himself to go in and face Sam. He had to tell Sam what he’d done and deal with Sam’s reaction. If Sam no longer wanted him after this, he’d respect that. It would hurt him to his very core, it would be hard to accept it, but he would find a way to deal with rejection.

 

Sam looked up as the door opened and Dean walked in. His eyes looked over Dean, trailing him up and down. He noticed that Dean was dressed in different clothes than when he’d left. He saw the traces of blood on Dean’s skin. 

 

“What did you do? What happened, are you hurt?” Sam asked as he got up from the bed to check Dean over. He felt the need to make sure Dean wasn’t hurt in any way. He needed to touch Dean, run his fingers over that pale skin, feel his brother’s heat against his own skin.

 

“Not my blood,” Dean said seeing the concern on Sam’s face. His breath hitched as he saw Sam’s eyes, looking at him with so much love and concern for him. How was he going to tell Sam the truth? How could he admit what he’d done? He’d killed his father to stop John from taking Sam away from him. 

 

Sam huffed out at his words, a puff of air pushed from his lungs. “Dean, what did you do?” Sam asked, panic rising in his chest.

 

“I did what I had to do. I took care of our problem,” he said in an even tone. He turned from Sam and striped off the clothing he was wearing and walked into the bathroom to shower. He felt dirty, needed to get John’s blood off of his skin. He let the water run cold as he stood under it, scrubbed his skin red and raw. When he was done, he walked out of the bathroom naked and damp from his shower to pull on his own clothing.

 

Sam still stood in the same spot. He stared at Dean. “What about Dad?” He asked, panic in his voice. He knew in the back of his mind that the blood on Dean had been their father’s. The question was how bad had the fight been? 

 

Dean looked at him, giving him a hard stare before he finally answered him. “Dad’s dead,” he said quietly. “He told me I wasn’t his son, just some sick fuck. That he knew I’d find way to fuck you up. That I inflicted this on you. He forced my hand, said he was going to take you away from me.” He heard Sam gasp and stilled his movements. He looked up at Sam, not sure what he was going to see in Sam’s eyes, hatred, disgust, anger or all of those emotions rolled into one.

 

“He said that to you? Blamed you for what we have? He thought he could do that, take me away from you?” Sam asked, anger making his voice rise in volume. “Then he got what he deserved,” Sam said as he cornered Dean, needing to touch him. “How?” Sam asked as he licked at Dean’s neck.

 

“Stabbed him,” Dean said, voice emotionless. 

 

Sam’s eyes went wide at hearing that. “I wish I had been there. I could have helped you. I would have helped you. I can’t believe that he thought he could take me away from you. You’re mine!” He pulled back from Dean and noticed the bruise forming at his jaw line. His eyes flashed with anger. “He hit you!” Sam spat out. “Wish I could stab him just for that. I would have bled him out just for daring to hit you.”

 

“Doesn’t matter, he’s dead now. I burned his body so there’s nothing to point to me. Grab your stuff. We should get going though, just in case someone comes sniffing around.” He turned to his duffle bag, picked it up and dropped it on the bed so he could shove his and Sam’s stuff into the bag. He watched as Sam grabbed his bag and disappear into the bathroom, gathering up any of their things in there and packing it up. 

 

“What about those?” Sam asked, pointing to the clothes that Dean had discarded

 

“Better take them. We can always get rid of them when we’re far away from here.” 

 

They carried their bags out to the Impala’s trunk and tossed them in before returning to the room to give it another look. They had to make sure that nothing of theirs was left behind that would point to who they were. Satisfied that the room was clean, Dean walked out, followed by Sam who locked and closed the door. 

 

Sam walked to the motel office with their room key in hand. He plastered a smile on his face as he pushed the door open. The man behind the counter never took his eyes off the little TV he’d been watching as Sam tossed the key on the counter and walked back out to join Dean in their car.

 

Dean pulled the car out of the parking lot and onto the road out of town. He would be a lot happier placing distance between them and the town where he’d taken John’s life. 

 

Sam reached over and placed a hand on Dean’s thigh to comfort them both. He moved a little closer to Dean, needing to feel his body heat. He sat resting his head on Dean’s shoulder, closed his eyes and let the movement of the car lull him to sleep.  

 

Dean drove in silence, enjoying the feel of Sam crowding in on his personal space. It was more than he could have ever hoped for. Their bond was more than just brotherly. They were brothers and now lovers, verging on something more, as if they were becoming one. 

  
  


Dean put as much distance between them and Wheatland, Wyoming. The town would hold a small piece of his heart. It was, after all, the place where Sam had admitted what he felt, had wanted him as much as he’d wanted Sam. He would forever be grateful that they’d been holed up in a less than memorable motel there for that reason alone. But, the place also held one of the worst memories now for him. It was the place where he’d taken a stand against John. It was the town where he’d taken his own father’s life. It was now the unknown resting place for John Winchester.

 

Even though their love had finally seen the light of day in that town, it wasn’t where they had finally committed themselves to each other. That happened in Valentine, Nebraska the first town they’d stopped in after leaving Wyoming. 

 

Dean had found a motel where he rented them a room with only one bed. There was no longer a need to present themselves as brothers in their own little private world. After grabbing a bite to eat and returning to their room, Dean found himself pressed up against the door by Sam’s tall, muscular body.

 

“Dean, please,” he said in a voice full of want and need for his brother. “Please, please . . .”

 

Dean pulled him down into a raw and hungry kiss, stopping his brother’s words. He knew what Sam was asking for, what they both wanted. 

 

Sam pulled away from Dean, looked at his brother and saw lust and desire staring back at him in his brother’s eyes. Without a word, he dropped to his knees and worked Dean’s jeans open and down his thighs. He heard Dean whisper his name as he wrapped a hand around Dean’s hard cock, fingers sliding along the burning flesh. He heard a thud, the back of Dean’s head hitting the door, as his tongue flicked over the head. He heard the hiss that came from Dean as he did this, one hand on the base of Dean’s cock, the other plastered to the wall to steady himself. He swirled his tongue over the head and along the sensitive vein along the underside of Dean’s cock before parting his lips and taking Dean into his mouth. He heard the moan Dean let out as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked him in, bobbing his head back and forth, taking him in as deeply as he could. He felt Dean’s hands on his shoulders, steadying himself as he knees buckled.

 

“Sam, gotta stop or I’m gonna come like this,” Dean moaned out.

 

Sam pulled back and off his brother, letting Dean’s cock drop from his mouth. Instantly he was up on his feet, as they undressed each other and found themselves on the bed. 

 

“Dean, want you in me.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean hissed out at him. “Just gotta find . . .”

 

“Right here.” Sam reached under the pillow his head was on and pulled out a bottle of lube, the one he’d hidden earlier when they’d dropped their bags off, hoping that Dean would finally fuck him. 

 

Dean chuckled at him. “You sly little . . .”

 

Sam pulled him back down, his lips on Dean’s neck stopped his brother from anymore speech. 

 

Dean took the offered bottle, opened it and poured some lube on his fingers. He looked into Sam’s eyes with uncertainty. The last thing he’d ever saw happening with Sam was this. He knew they both were no virgins; having sex with girls their same age, or a little older in his case. He’d just never thought of having sex with a guy. He didn’t want to hurt Sam.

 

“Dean?” Sam whispered, fear tinging his voice. “Do you not want to?”

 

“No, I just don’t know . . . I don’t want to hurt you.” He saw the relieved smile on Sam’s face.

 

“Oh, you just gotta . . .” Sam started as he gripped Dean’s wrist and pulled Dean’s hand to rest against his ass. He shuddered at the feel of Dean’s fingers against his rim. “Just work me open.”

 

“Have you . . .” Dean couldn’t finish his question. The thought of Sam with another guy had his blood boiling.

 

“No, no one. Just in the shower, always pretending it was you,” he whispered as he bit his lip.

 

“Oh,” Dean whispered back as he began to move his fingers, coating Sam’s rim with lube before he pushed a finger in slowly.

 

“God, yes!” Sam groaned out as Dean’s finger pushed into his body. He felt Dean’s finger pushing in and then pulling back out and he saw stars. If this was good, he could only imagine what it would be like with Dean’s cock in him, filling him and stretching wide. “More,” he panted as Dean pushed a second finger in, soon followed by a third. He closed his eyes, riding the wave of pleasure Dean’s fingers offered him. He was snapped back into focus at the loss of Dean’s fingers as they withdrew from him. He whimpered at the loss. “What . . .”

 

“Condom,” Dean forced himself to stop, to focus on what he needed to say. “We need a condom.”

 

“No, I want to feel you . . . don’t want anything between us . . .”

 

Dean groaned at the thought of taking Sam bare. “You’re sure?” 

 

“Yes, Dean, please . . .” Sam breathed out.

 

Dean hushed Sam as he grabbed the lube and added a generous amount to coat his cock. He lined himself up with Sam’s rim and gently pushed in. He groaned at the feeling of Sam’s body all around him, the warm heat and tight muscle fluttering around his cock. When he was fully sheathed in his brother’s body he stopped his movements, giving Sam time to adjust to him.

 

When Sam’s legs circled his waist, he dared to move. Slowly he pulled out only to push back in. It was a heady feeling, sharing this with his brother, knowing that to the world they would be considered abominations. He didn’t care, could care, not when Sam was offering this to him. Not when Sam was moaning his name and telling him how much he loved and wanted him like this.

 

He reached out and wrapped a hand around Sam’s erect cock, smearing pre-come and lube down the shaft as he worked Sam’s cock in time with his thrusts. He heard Sam’s breaths quicken and felt his muscle tighten around him, signaling Sam’s orgasm. He thrust deeper, hitting Sam’s prostate and heard Sam cry out his name as he came. His orgasm followed shortly after as he came inside Sam, calling out Sam’s name. He leaned down, hands bracketing Sam’s head, for a kiss as he gently pulled out of Sam. He rolled onto his back, letting his heavy breathing even out to a steady rhythm. He felt movement next to him and then Sam’s head was on his chest.

 

Sam waited as Dean caught his breath after they had orgasmed. He waited to see what Dean would do, how he would react after they had shared the most intimate of acts together. He watched as Dean settled on the bed next to him. He took that opportunity to slide himself over to Dean and he placed his head on Dean’s chest, listening to the steady beat of Dean’s heart. He felt Dean’s arms encircling him, bringing him closer and holding him as they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

 

Dean wasn’t sure how it all happened or when the reality of their new life set it. It just seemed to be the norm for them now. Maybe it was because there was nothing and no one to hold them back. There was no reason to act ‘normal’ or as just brothers unless they wanted to. They still hunted the supernatural, it was something they were good at and enjoyed but they went about it differently now. They broke contact from their old life, rarely taking calls from any of the hunters who knew them or more importantly their father. When they did come across someone from their past who asked about John, the response was that he’d been killed during a hunt. They had given him a proper hunter’s send off. There was some truth to their lies. 

 

But, the killing of John had woken something in them both. For Dean he’d found he was very good at hunting and killing his prey. He enjoyed it, craved it. There was always an underlying itch he just couldn’t quite scratch. It was one he just couldn’t shake. He knew it had started with hunting the supernatural creates, but soon that wasn’t enough. He needed something else to hunt; human prey, to indulge his need to chase, to hunt and to kill. The only time it was quiet, when he wasn’t indulging in it, was when he was protecting Sam, taking care of all of Sam’s needs - Sam’s need to find a toy and play. 

 

As they drove to a diner one night, Sam saw her - a girl for him to play with; the first girl they had taken to play with - standing alone at a bus stop. It wasn’t something Dean was in to, but Sam was. That was enough for Dean. 

 

“Dean, stop the car.” 

 

Dean looked over at him in confusion until he saw what Sam was staring at. Dean slowed to a stop and waited for Sam to say something. Sam leaned over and kissed him before sliding out of the car and running over to the girl standing in the rain. 

 

She was a petite redhead with dark eyes. She looked up as Sam stepped into her line of view. 

 

“Hey,” Sam said with a smile.

 

“Hey,” she said wearily.

 

“I’m Sam, that’s my brother Dean. He pointed to the car. “I saw you standing out here, alone in the rain. Look, I know we’re strangers but you look like you’re cold and hungry. You can join us. We won’t hurt you. Then, we can either give you a ride if you’re going the same way as us or we’ll bring you back. What do you say?” He looked at her, wide hazel eyes pleading with her.

 

She smiled at him. “I’m Susie. That actually sounds good, thanks.”

 

Sam turned and walked back to the car with Susie in tow. He helped her with her bag, getting her settled into the back seat.

 

“Hi, I’m Susie,” she said to Dean as he turned to regard her. “Thanks so much, I didn’t expect to find good samaritans in the world anymore.”

 

“You have no idea,” Dean said and chuckled as he pulled back on to the road, driving them to the edge of town. 

 

When the car stopped, Susie looked up at them, dark eyes showing fear. “Whe - where are we? What’s going on?”

 

Dean ignored her as he got out and pulled the barn doors open before getting back into the car and pulling it into the seclusion of the barn. 

 

Without a word to her, Sam got out, opened her door and dragged her out. 

 

“What are you doing?” She screamed at him, only to stumble backward as Sam backhanded her. She tried to raise her hand to the corner of her mouth as the cut Sam had inflicted dripped blood on her chin. She felt something encircle her body, forcing her arms against her sides. She struggled but couldn’t get loose as the rope was pulled tighter and secured at the small of her back. She looked into cold green eyes as Dean stepped in front of her. She screamed out again as Dean hauled her up and over his shoulder, kicking her feet the entire time.

 

“You found a live one, Sam,” Dean said with a chuckle. “Close the doors.”

 

“I can’t wait to play.” Sam said, a smile forming on his lips as turned to close the doors to the old barn they’d come across earlier in the day. 

 

It had been perfect, out of the way as it was on the edge of town. At first they had thought about just squatting there rather than spending money on a motel room. Then Sam had looked at Dean and suggested using it for something else. Dean had helped him find an old work table that was still in good condition. He had run his hands over it, feeling the hardwood under his fingers. It was still smooth after all this time. He’d secured rope to the legs, had Dean check the rope to make sure it was secure, so his toy wouldn’t be able to escape. Dean watched him as he prepared his knives, his tools of preference. He was still learning, still perfecting his technique.     

 

Susie screamed has Dean dropped her down onto the table. In her struggles she nearly fell off the table and Sam had to reach out quickly to stop her from rolling onto the floor. Dean reached down, grabbed one of the ropes and secured her ankle to the table. Sam mimicked Dean’s movements, securing her other ankle before Dean cut away the rope he’d tied her with earlier. He grabbed one of her wrists and secured it above her head as Sam secured the other. Dean stepped back, watched her struggle against the ropes. Once he was satisfied that she was secure, he nodded his approval to Sam.

 

Sam looked over his knives, eyed them before selecting one and holding it up to really inspect it. He smiled, it felt like an extension of himself. The blade was six inches in length and at least three inches wide and he liked the feel of it in his hand. He started with tentative strokes as he sliced into her flesh. He wasn’t sure where to start or how deep to cut but he just wanted to hear her screams and watch her flood flow. He needed to see the red richness as it beaded along the cuts and pooled around her body. The coppery tang was a smell he enjoyed as he sniffed at the air. He’d bottle that smell if he could.

 

He looked down at the cuts he’d made in her flesh. He frowned at the jaggedness of his lines. It wasn’t what he’d imagined. He wanted long fluid lines showing, not something that looked like he’d hacked at her. He tried again only to get the same result as she screamed from the pain. He leaned back on the balls of his feet and listened as she screamed begged for him to stop. 

 

“Ple - please stop,” she had managed in between sobs, tears staining her face. “Please just take my money. You can just leave me at the bus stop. I’ll never say anything.”

 

“Do you think we’re stupid?” Dean asked in a snarl as he came to stand behind Sam. “Of course you’re gonna beg us. Go ahead, it’s not gonna do you any good. Sam wants to play. I want him to play. I want him to have his fun. I’d never deny him anything,” he said as he pulled Sam up and crashed his lips against Sam’s. He heard the little breathy moan escape from Sam’s lips as he pulled away. 

 

“Here try this one,” Dean said as he took the knife away that Sam had been using. He replaced it with a smaller knife. “It’s got a smaller blade and handle. Should be easier to wield, get the results you’re looking for, clean lines.” Dean smiled at him and placed the knife in his hand.

 

“Show me,” Sam said in a pleading tone. 

 

Dean smiled at him and moved closer, pressing his body against Sam’s and turning him toward his toy. He placed his hand over Sam’s, guiding it as he held the knife over Sam’s toy. He pushed the blade into the skin, pulling it back in a quick and fluid motion. He lifted their joined hands and placed the blade against the skin again, repeating the motion, deftly cutting skin away from muscle. 

 

Sam turned to look at Dean, a smile on his face. He sighed in contentment at having Dean’s body pressed against his. He felt Dean’s lips on the back of his neck. Heard him mumble to him, ‘have fun’ as he pulled away from him. He whined at the loss but turned his attention back to his toy, repeating what Dean had shown him. When her screams had turned to pitiful mewls, Sam had stepped back, giving her a dark look as he decided what to do with her. Ultimately it was Dean who took the lead, slicing her throat from ear to ear with the knife he’d taken from Sam earlier. Sam stood rooted to his spot as arterial blood sprayed into the air, coating her body with her life blood as it pumped out. He heard the wet gurgle coming from her lips stop as the life drained from her body. With a wide grin on his lips he looked at Dean in awe. 

 

Sam rounded the table to stand next to Dean. He reached out and wound her hair around his finger. He lifted the knife to it, ready to cut the strands off.

 

“What are you doing?” Dean demanded.

 

He looked at him, eyes wide as if he’d been caught doing something wrong. “Taking something to remember her by.” He felt the anger rising within himself at being stopped. How dare Dean even ask him what he was doing? He needed something to remember his toy by. Didn’t Dean know that?

 

“No!” Dean barked out at him and watched as Sam recoiled, letting go of the hair wrapped around his finger. He softened his voice to speak to Sam. “No, Sam. Can’t do that. Never take a souvenir. That’s the fastest way to get caught. You don’t want that, do you? Get caught and separated from each other? Because that’s what would happen. They’d take you from me. No one would understand us. They’d ridicule and scorn us, like Dad did.”

 

Sam shook his head. “No, of course not. I don’t want that,” Sam whispered.

 

“Just memorize every little detail,” Dean said, pointing a finger to his forehead. 

 

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” Sam’s voice was full of disappointment, in himself for not thinking things through, for making Dean yell at him and for not being able to keep a lock of her hair.  

 

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you. This is all new for you and me. We just gotta make sure we play this the smart way,” Dean said as he pulled Sam against him, needing to soothe Sam and make him smile. “I love you. I’ll do anything for you, make you happy. Yeah?”

 

Sam nodded his head as he looked into Dean’s green eyes. He only saw love, no anger. He smiled wide, showing his dimples and then leaned into Dean for a kiss. He rested his head on Dean‘s shoulder and felt Dean’s arms encircling him, pulling him flush against Dean’s muscular chest. He heaved a sigh of contentment. He had what he’d been longing for, Dean. Even though they were brothers, been together their entire lives, it was like a part of him had been missing. Now he knew why, understood what had been so wrong with him. It was like Dean was his other half, he was finally complete. Together, with Dean, he was whole. In the hard light of day, he knew this was wrong, what they had together. But, in his world, his reality he just didn’t give a shit. How could he? He loved Dean without remorse at being of the same blood.

 

“What about her?” Sam asked as he cocked his head to the side, eyeing the dead body still secured to the table.

 

“Later,” Dean said as he moved closer to Sam. Dean reached out and took the knife out of Sam’s hand and placed it down carefully on the makeshift table. He’d clean it along with the others later. First he had to make Sam smile again. Sam’s hands down his back to his ass which he squeezed. Dean chuckled and pulling away. Before Sam could protest, Dean forced him to turn around, slamming him back against the trunk of the car, bending Sam over it. Sam gasped as Dean reached between Sam’s body and the car, cupping Sam’s already hard cock. 

 

“Dean,” Sam said as he started to work his pants open and down past his ass. Sam pushed them past his thighs, letting them pool around his ankles and widened his stance, giving Dean greater access to his body.

 

Dean pulled off of Sam, reached down and began to work his own pants open and down past his own hard cock. He hissed at the friction of the material against his already sensitive skin. Thankfully, he’d had the forethought to tuck a small bottle of lube in his pocket earlier. He pulled it from his pocket and slicked his fingers and cock. He set the bottle on the trunk and leaned over Sam, trailing his fingers down Sam’s spine to his ass.

 

Sam hissed at the feeling of Dean’s fingers against his sensitive rim. He was still a little sore from the night before but he didn’t stop Dean. He wanted Dean as much as Dean wanted him. He let out a moan and Dean’s finger pushed in past the tight muscle, working him open. He rocked his hips backwards, meeting Dean’s push, needing more. A groan tore from his lips as Dean worked in two and then three fingers into his ass, opening him so he could take Dean’s cock.

 

“I’m ready. Dean, please,” he whispered.

 

“Shh, gonna give you what you need, what we both want,” Dean said as he withdrew his fingers and pushed his cock into Sam’s tight ass. He groaned at the feeling of being inside his brother again. The warmth enveloped him. He felt Sam’s muscles tightening and he waited for him to relax before he withdrew, only to push back in. 

 

“So tight, Sam. Love how you were made for me, how you take my cock,” Dean whispered to him.

 

“Dean, harder. I can take it,” Sam whined to him as he pushed back, trying to take more of Dean’s cock.

 

Sam felt hands on his hips, Dean’s grip was painfully tight. They both knew that he’d have finger shaped bruises from Dean in the morning. He felt Dean pull nearly, readjusted the grip on his hips and force him back onto Dean’s cock. 

 

Dean set a fast pace, needing his brother, fucking him as hard as he possibly could. Sam wanted harder, he’d give it to him. “Gonna come on my cock,” he ground out has he pushed in, hitting Sam’s prostate on the push. He adjusted himself so he was hitting Sam’s prostate on every push. He listened as Sam’s breathing quickened and he smiled, knowing it would only be a matter of time before Sam was coming untouched. 

 

“Dean!” Sam screamed out as his orgasm ripped through his body. He fell forward, bracing himself with his arms as his vision blurred. His body shook as he rode out his orgasm. He felt Dean’s body against his, pushing and pulling at him until Dean’s thrusts began to falter and Dean was coming in him, filling him. He felt Dean’s body blanketing him, Dean’s chest pressed against his back. He felt movement and realized it was Dean, reaching out to him entwining the fingers of both hands together. He let out a contented sigh. This was how they were meant to be. 

 

When Dean felt Sam shiver from the cold, he gently pulled away and out of his body. He heard Sam’s protest but paid no attention to it as he looked for something he could use to clean them with. “Sam, we gotta get cleaned up and deal with things. Then we can go back to the motel, spend the rest of the night in bed together.” He eyed a towel and shuffled over to it. He grabbed it and wiped himself before redressing. He then walked over to Sam and cleaned him before helping him to redress and then cleaned the car off.

 

He popped the trunk and pulled out a gallon of water and rinsed off their knives before packing them away. He’d clean them until they were gleaming, giving no hint of what they’d been used for, when they were safely back in their room. He tucked them back in the trunk before getting out the tools he needed to dispose of the body.

 

“Heads up,” Dean said as he tossed the keys to Sam. “Move the car out. I’ll be right out,” he said as he turned his attention back to the corpse. He heard the sound of the car being started, the door being opened and then the car in motion as Sam drove it outside. 

 

He picked up the can of gasoline, box of salt and the matches and walked toward the body. He circled around it once, made sure that there was nothing of theirs to indicate they had been there, had done this. He piled the towels onto the body, opened the salt and poured it over the body before tossing its canister onto the pile. He then uncapped the can and poured the gas, saturating the body before lighting the entire matchbook. He threw it onto the body and watched as the gas caught fire and the entire body was set ablaze. He watched only long enough to make sure that the body was engulfed in flames, burning away any traces of them before picking up the gas can and turning his back on it and walking out to join Sam. 

 

He walked out to find Sam sitting in the Impala in the passenger’s seat. He smiled seeing that, Sam waiting for him. He placed the can on the floor of the backseat before he slid in behind the wheel of the car and drove them back to the motel. When they were back and sure no one was watching them, he gave Sam the room key and nudged him toward the door.

“I’m right behind you. I just gotta get something from the trunk,” he said as he turned his back on Sam to retrieve the knives. He heard the crunch of gravel as Sam walked away to open the door. When he closed the trunk, he looked up to see Sam standing in the doorway, waiting for him. Within a matter of moments he joined Sam, shutting and locking the door, closing out the outside world. In the room it was only them, no one else existed.

  
  


That night, he cleaned the knives, making sure there were no traces of blood before packing them away. He led Sam to the shower and washed them both, cleaning away the evidence of what they’d done before climbing into bed next to Sam’s naked body. He pulled Sam close to him and drifted off to sleep listening to the deep, even breathing of his sleeping brother. 

 

Dean woke the next morning, entangled within Sam’s limbs. He huffed as he tried to pull himself free only to find Sam curling an arm tighter around his waist, anchoring him to Sam’s body and the bed. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling, debating on what to do. He could push Sam off him, not that he really wanted to do that. But he needed to get up, needed to stretch his legs and work of the rising tension in his body. It felt like there was an itch just under the surface of his skin, one he couldn’t scratch. It had started just after he’d killed John. He closed his eyes and thought back. No, he had to be honest with himself. The itch had always been there. It had just intensified when he’d taken his father’s life. He knew what it meant. He knew what he had to do to soothe that itch, just what it’d take to finally scratch it before it started up again. He had to kill something. Sure, he’d killed Sam’s toy, well put it down like one put down a sick dog. He had performed an act of mercy, really. But for him he’d been able to sate this with a hunt for the supernatural. Now, the need to hunt had been awakened and he knew just hunting the supernatural would no longer quelch his need. His body was itching. He felt his muscles twitching with need. He had to hunt. He had to make a kill of his own.

 

He glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand, two pm. Shit, where had the day gone? He never slept that late. Ever. What had changed this? Sam had. Having Sam next to him had managed to soothe his own inner demon; the one that kept him up at night, wide awake and always so alert. He tilted his head and looked at Sam. He saw Sam’s blue-green eyes looking at him, taking him in. 

 

“Dean, what can I do?” Sam asked in a small voice. He was too scared to ask if he’d done something wrong. He could feel the shift in Dean, the way he held himself, muscles coiled as if he was ready to pounce, to fight, to attack. 

 

“Huh?” Dean made a sound at him, not sure how to answer Sam. 

 

Sam pulled away from Dean and sat up looking down at him, meeting the green eyes that stared up at him. “I can feel it, the need in you. You need to hunt.” It wasn’t a question Sam was posing to him.

 

Dean furrowed his brow. How did Sam know? How could he possibly even guess at what he needed? He’d always been so careful at hiding his need to kill. Not even their father had an idea of what their hunts provided for him. 

 

“It’s okay. I know. Always have. Just like you’ve always known what I’ve needed.” Sam leaned down and kissed him, running his tongue along the seam of Dean’s lips before pushing his tongue in. He needed to give Dean whatever he wanted, what he needed, whether it was him, his body or something else. He sucked on Dean’s tongue until he heard a moan escape from Dean’s throat. He pulled back and cupped Dean’s cheek. “How can I help? Do you want me to be a distraction? I can lure someone for you.” He ground himself against Dean, getting hard at the thought of watching Dean in motion, hunting.

 

“Maybe,” Dean said tentatively. This would be new, having Sam help him. He’d always tried to shield Sam from this part of himself. It was strange to know that Sam was willing to help him and he was getting hard at the thought of it. 

 

“Whatever you want, whatever you need - I’ll do it, just like you did for me.” Sam hissed out as Dean brought his hands to his thigh, pushed in between their bodies to wrap his fingers around Sam’s cock. He closed his eyes at the sensation of Dean’s skin against his. He quickly opened them when he felt himself moving, found himself on his back with Dean above him, Dean’s hand still fisting him. 

 

Dean steadied himself with one arm as he pressed himself against Sam. His right hand was cupped around Sam’s cock, working him to a full erection. He watched as Sam closed his eyes, opened his mouth and moaned as Dean’s fingers worked over the sensitive flesh. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Sam came. He increased the friction of his movements, flicking his wrist as his hand moved up and down. He felt as Sam’s arms grabbed at him, latching his fingers onto his shoulders as his orgasm built. He felt Sam’s hips buck up into him as Sam’s orgasm tore through his body, heard is name being called as Sam came. With a smile he leaned down and kissed Sam. He heard Sam’s muffled voice.

 

“I love you,” Sam said as his body shuddered with an aftershock of his orgasm.

 

“Love you,” Dean said as he began to move away. He felt Sam reach for him, trying to reciprocate. “No, babe, that was all for you. I’m fine.” He saw Sam’s look of disbelief and he smiled. “No, really, I am. Come on, let’s get cleaned up. Then you can help me plan.” 

 

Sam gave a satisfied smile to Dean. He was going to help Dean out in anyway he could. His heart fluttered in his chest at the thought. Then, afterward he’d really help Dean out, get Dean off.

 

Dean pulled Sam up from the bed and pushed him toward the bathroom to clean up after the last few moments. When Sam was done and they were both dressed he grabbed the knives and headed back out to the Impala. He tucked the knives safely back into the trunk and then got into the car, followed by Sam.

 

He drove them around the outskirts of town again as he had when they’d been searching for a place for Sam to take his toy to play. This time, he wasn’t looking for an abandoned build but a place with trees or a least a place where he could set his prey lose to run and he could follow. 

 

“Dean, how about over there?” Sam motioned to his right. Dean brought the car to a stop and turned in his seat to where Sam was looking. About a quarter of a mile away was an area with a field, trees and what looked like and a ditch - one he could use to burn the body in, with nothing around for miles. It looked perfect. He drove them closer, cut the motor and got out. Together, on foot they went to look over the area. He was right, it was a perfect spot to hunt.

 

“What do you think?” Sam asked in a hopeful voice. He turned to look at Dean, trying to figure out if he’d been able to help Dean in some way.

 

Dean’s lips quirked up into a smile. He turned to Sam, green eyes flashing with happiness. “Perfect, just like you,” he said as he pulled Sam into a kiss. He nipped at Sam’s lips, licked across his jaw until he heard Sam laugh.

 

“What’s next?”

 

“We find a place to have something to eat.” Dean grabbed Sam’s hand and walked them back to the car. He drove until he found a diner and pulled into the parking lot. The diner was half empty by the time they got there, most of the dinner crowd had come and gone.

 

They were seated in a booth near the back window. With little conversation between themselves or their waitress, they ordered and then waited for their food. When they were nearly finished eating, Dean noticed a neon flashing light as it turned on, catching his attention with the flash of red letters from across the street. 

 

“Sam,” he said and indicated with his hand for Sam to look in the same direction. 

 

Sam turned to look and saw the bar sign. He turned back to look at Dean, excitement in his eyes. He knew what Dean wanted and they were so close to fulfilling that want.

 

“When we’re done here, we’ll circle around the bar,” Dean said in a hushed tone. “Look for a good vantage point to park the car and get the person out. Then . . .”

 

Dean stopped speaking as the waitress made her way over to their table. “Anything else, sugar?” She asked not taking her eyes off Dean.

 

Sam reached over and placed his hand over Dean’s, letting her know she was not on the night’s menu. “No, just the check,” he growled at her. 

 

She turned to look at him, eyes wide with shock. “Of course, here ya go. You can leave it on the table when you’re done. No rush,” she said as she backed away from them.

 

“Sam place nice.” Dean chuckled at his brother’s possessiveness.

 

“I am. I didn’t take my knife and stab her with it. Just let her know that you’re mine.” He fished in his pocket for the money to pay with. He tossed down a few crumpled bills before standing up. “Ready?” 

 

Dean nodded, stood and followed Sam out. 

 

They followed Dean’s plan, finding a place at the back of the parking lot to park. They made their way into the bar quietly, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. They surveyed their surroundings, found the bar was already pretty full. It would make it easier for them to slip out, unnoticed when the time came. The more people, the less likely it was that they’d be remembered when the time came to report the prey as a missing person.

 

They stood at the crowded bar and ordered their beers before walking over to the pool tables. Dean watched as a game ended and all but one of the players walked away. The guy looked a little lost.

 

“Looking for another game?” Dean asked as he stepped closer. He watched the guy’s eyes rove over him and he smiled at seeing Dean’s body.

 

“Sure, I’m Steve,” he said, licking his lips. “What do you wanna play for?”

 

“Dean,” he said, introducing himself. “How about if you win, you buy the next round? If I win, I’ll drop my brother, Sam off at our motel room and go home with you?” Dean watched as the smile on the guy’s face widened.

 

“Sure, I like the sound of that.” he said as he racked the balls.

 

Dean grabbed a pool stick and turned back to Steve. “Your table, you break first,” he said as he raised his beer bottle to his lips, taking a sip and giving the guy a wink. 

 

The game lasted twenty minutes before Dean sunk the winning shot. “Looks like I win.” Dean turned to Steve and grabbed his hand. He knew Sam would be right behind them. “Car’s over here,” he said as he led the man outside and around the back of the parking lot. 

 

“Nice car. What, ‘67 Impala? She’s in mint condition.” He ran his hand along the trunk and looked over his shoulder at Dean.

 

“Yeah, she was my Dad’s before I took her off his hands. Come on, I’ll give you a ride,” Dean said as he opened one of the back doors for Steve. He withdrew his Colt and used the butt of the gun to hit Steve in the face. He watched as the man crumpled to the ground. “To bad you won’t remember the ride,” he said as he hefted the man’s unconscious body into the back.

 

“You good?” Sam said to him, his voice full of heat and anger. He saw how the guy had eyed Dean, like Dean was ripe for the taking. The bastard was gonna get what he deserved. Dean wasn’t meant for that guy - Dean was his and only his. “Here, got this from the trunk, just in case you needed it,” Sam said as he handed Dean a zip tie to bind the unconscious man’s hands.

 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Dean said as he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. He got in and waited for Sam. He noticed how Sam had tensed up once the guy had come on to him. Sam was always possessive of him, even before the change in their relationship. When Sam was in the car next to him, he reached over and forced Sam to look at him. “It was all an act to get the guy out here with us. I never wanted him.” 

 

“Yeah, well he wanted you!” Sam shot back at him. “You’re mine.”

 

“Don’t worry, Sam. He’s about to get that little clue.” Dean turned, put the car into drive and made the drive out to the area they’d found earlier. With a little help from Sam, he was able to get the guy out of the back of the Impala and onto the cold, hard ground. 

 

As the guy came around, Dean crouched down to cut the zip tie holding the man’s wrists together. He smiled as the man moaned and rubbed the side of his head. 

 

“What the fuck?” The man hissed out as he winced from the throbbing in his head. “What happened?” He looked around, saw his surroundings and who was with him. “What’s going on?”

 

“Well, you ran into us,” Dean gave him a wide smile. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to run like your life depended on it, because it does. I’m going to chase you. I need this, the hunt.”

 

Dean slid the bullet into the chamber of the shotgun and cocked it. He heard the familiar sound of the bullet sliding into place and smiled as he leveled the shotgun at his prey. This was going to be fun, he thought to himself. His finger played at the trigger, needing to pull at it but he forced himself to stop. Now wasn’t the time as he watched the quivering form on the ground in front of him.

 

“Run,” he said in a husky tone, feeling the desire to chase course through his body. 

 

“Wha-what?” The man stammered back at him.

 

“I said run.” Dean’s voice took on an irritated tone at having to repeat himself.

 

“No . . . You can’t be serious!” The man responded, not believing what he was hearing. He couldn’t fathom the danger he was in. Just a little while ago he’d been playing pool with the man who was now leveling a shotgun at his head.

 

“I said run!” Dean yelled at the man, his voice cutting through the silence. He kicked out at the man. Steve? Was that his name? Not that it mattered, he didn’t care and after tonight, the man would be forgotten.

 

“Dean!” Sam hissed at him.

 

Dean smiled at the terror showing on the man’s features.

 

“Last chance,” he said as he pulled Sam against his body, his arm encircling Sam’s waist and resting on Sam’s hip.

 

He watched as the man got shakily to his feet, turned and ran. Dean pulled Sam in for a kiss before letting him go. He turned his focus back on the moving body and gave chase. This was what he’d needed, to con someone into thinking he was a nice guy before he gave chase to them, hunting them down. He stopped and waited, watching to see what his prey would do as he brought the shotgun up, lined his shot up and waited. He watched as the man stopped and then turned back to look at them. Dean smiled at this.

 

“Wrong move,” he muttered as he took aim and fired.

 

The sound of the shot split the silence, ringing in their ears, deafening them for an instance. He heard the muffled ‘ugg’ as the man flailed his arms and fell backwards, hitting the ground with a hard thud. He smiled; he’d hit his mark. He waited to see if the man would get back up, try to run before he and Sam got to him. He looked at Sam and then they were off running toward the crumpled form.

 

When they reached him, they found him lying on his back, eyes blinking in confusion as his hands clutching at the bleeding wound in his stomach.

 

“Wh-why?” The man asked in a gurgling voice wet with blood.

 

“Because I can. Because I need this as much as I need air to breath,” Dean said as he leveled the shotgun over the man’s heart and pulled the trigger. The kill shot. Dean savored it for a moment, hearing the man’s plea of ‘no’ dying on his lips as his life drained from his body.

 

Dean felt Sam’s hand on his back, snapping him back into focus. He needed to move onto the next step of what he needed to do - destroy the body, erase all evidence of his kill, of them. He longed to just sit and take everything in, the smell of gunpowder in the air followed by the coppery tang of blood, the corpse at their feet. But he couldn’t. He needed to be efficient in his cleanup as he was in his kill. He couldn’t risk being discovered. It would be bad for him and Sam if that happened. 

 

“You’re so fucking hot, wish I could fucking push you down, ride you hard. I want you,” Sam said, his voice shaking with desire for Dean.

 

Dean turned to him with a smile. “Yeah, but we gotta do what needs to be done.”

 

He saw Sam’s smile change forming into a pout. He hated denying Sam. But, if he gave into what Sam wanted right now, he’d lose control, his focus and something would be overlooked. Something that would be the difference between getting away undetected and getting caught.

 

He reached out and let his fingers graze along Sam’s jaw. “Don’t pout. Once we do this, get the cleanup done, then I’m all yours. I promise,” Dean said as a smile danced across his lips.

 

“Thought you already were.” Sam shot back at him. His voice was rough, tinged with anger at not getting his way.

 

“Always,” Dean said and cupped Sam’s cheek. He ran his thumb over Sam’s lips and watched as Sam smiled at him.

 

“Okay, let’s get this over with so we can get outta here and on to better things. Like me on your cock,” Sam said as he wiggled his eyebrows at Dean.

 

Dean chuckled at him. “Yeah, I like the way you think,” he said as he turned his attention from his brother to the corpse at his feet. 

 

Dean bent down and grabbed the corpse by its feet and began dragging it to the ditch where he rolled it into. Sam joined him, carrying a duffle bag which he dropped on the ground at their feet. He heard a sloshing sound and looked at Sam.

 

“Already packed away the shotguns and cleaned up any traces of him,” Sam said as he pointed to the body. 

 

“Good.” Dean bent down and got out the salt and poured it over the corpse before tossing the empty box on top. He was about to grab for the gas can when he felt Sam nudging him. He looked over toward Sam to find that Sam was offering him the can. He took it with a smile and poured the contents over the corpse before placing it back in their bag. He felt his back pockets and found the book a matches. He held them out to Sam.

 

“You wanna do this?” He knew Sam had been angry about earlier, about the guy thinking he even had a chance with him. As if that would have ever happened. There was only one person he had ever wanted and he had him now. He saw the smile that spread over Sam’s lips, lighting his eyes with happiness.

 

“Yeah, I do,” Sam said as he took the matches and lit the entire book on fire before tossing it at the corpse. Within a few seconds, the lit matches caught the gas and the body was engulfed in flames. Sam smiled at seeing the body burn; knowing the flames would burn hot and fast before anyone noticed. He felt Dean’s hand on the small of his back.

 

“Come on, let’s get going.”

 

Sam turned to Dean, looked at him with so much love that it caused Dean’s heart to thud heavily in his chest. “I love you, you know that right?” Sam asked, needing to know that Dean felt the same way and that he was the only one that mattered in Sam’s life. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted, will ever want. You’re it for me.”

 

Dean closed his eyes, a small smile on his face as he listened to Sam’s declaration of love. The one that he’d longed to hear but had never dared to hope for. He opened his eyes and looked at Sam and realized he felt the same way, always had and always would.

 

“Sam,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve loved you since the day you came into this world. I never dared to hope you felt this way about me. The same way I feel about you. You are all I want. Never doubt that.” He pulled Sam to him, kissed him passionately before forcing them both back to the car. 

 

“Come on, we need to get outta here. I think I remember you saying something about wanting to ride my cock.”

 

Sam’s cheeks burned from hearing Dean repeating his words from earlier. He looked away, needing a moment to compose himself as Dean started the car and drove, putting distance between themselves and where they’d just been. He cleared his throat several times before turning back to Dean. “Yeah, offer still stands, if you want.”

 

“I’ll always want you,” Dean said as he cast a sideways glance at his brother. Sam was the only one that mattered.


End file.
